


Change in the Weather

by mithrel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blanket Permission, M/M, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-15
Updated: 2010-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 22:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sam's been having dreams.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Should Know Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's been having dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Podfic by tinypinkmouse available [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/313438)

Sam’s been dreaming about the Trickster.

Not that that’s anything new. All during the time they were stuck in Broward County, on the nights he wasn’t dreaming about Dean dying horribly, he was tracking down the Trickster and killing him, slowly and repeatedly.

And he supposes, given the recent revelation, that it’s not a surprise that the Trickster is in his head, telling him to play his role.

But this…this is something else entirely.

Sam’s stretched out on the bed as the Trickster–no, _Gabriel_ –thrusts into him, over and over. He has a moment to think _What the hell?_ before Gabriel hits his prostate and he shudders.

Gabriel smirks down at him and rolls his hips, and Sam strangles out, “Oh, _God!_ ”

The smirk widens. “Not exactly.”

And then Sam’s not thinking anymore, just moaning and thrusting, and running his hands over every inch of Gabriel’s body that he can reach, and when his hands land on Gabriel’s shoulderblades the archangel jolts and comes inside him with a stuttering moan, and that sets Sam off.

He wakes up with a start, looking around in confusion. Another motel room, this one with purple and green wallpaper that Dean had sworn he was going to tear out. Sun is coming in the window, and Dean is asleep in the next bed.

 _Another dream…_ Sam sighs with relief, putting it down to the fact that he hasn’t been laid in forever, ignoring the fact that his subconscious had chosen to conjure up _Gabriel_ of all people.

He looks down and sighs, then heads for the bathroom to take care of his erection.

***

Dean has no idea about the dreams he’s been having, and after the last one they stop, so Sam breathes easier. It was bad enough being stuck in the Trickster’s own private home theater without him invading Sam’s brain.

For about a week things are normal, or about as normal as they get when you’re traveling with an angel and there’s an Apocalypse looming on the horizon.

Dean’s still sniping at Cas, and Sam wishes his brother would just make a move already. He’s seen Dean when he’s interested in someone, and he’s showing all the signs now. And from what little Sam can read of Cas, it looks like he’s just as interested.

But it’s not his business, so he keeps quiet, even though he doesn’t know why Dean’s hesitating. After all, it’s not like his brother ever had trouble going after what he wanted before.

Sam has almost forgotten about the dream, when it happens again.

This time he’s on the bed, hard already, with Gabriel hovering over him, circling his thumbs along Sam’s hips, that damn ever-present smirk on his face.

Sam whines and tries to get Gabriel to move where he needs him to, but Gabriel won’t let him. He moves his hands down to stroke along Sam’s thighs, moving slowly inward, until he’s pushing Sam’s legs apart, then he stops just short of his cock.

Sam tries to reach out for him, but he can’t move. Something tells him that this is a dream, but all he cares about is the fact that Gabriel isn’t giving him what he wants.

Gabriel leans down so his breath ghosts along Sam’s cock and whispers, “Something you want, Sammy?”

“Gnngh.” Sam throws his head back and groans, but doesn’t say anything.

“All you have to do is ask,” Gabriel coaxes, but Sam can’t, he can’t.

Gabriel’s tongue sneaks out and laps along his cock and Sam gasps and thrusts his hips up, but Gabriel’s already moving back, up to his chest to suck on his nipple.

Sam tries to fist his hands in Gabriel’s hair, but he still can’t move except to thrash weakly underneath him.

Gabriel pulls off and bites his nipple, gently, then licks over it with the flat of his tongue.

Sam’s senses are on overload, sparks shooting along his skin from wherever Gabriel’s touching him, pooling in his cock. “Gabriel…” he moans.

Gabriel pulls off and looks at him. “Yes, Sam?”

“I…”

Gabriel smiles at him. “Just ask, Sam. Is that so hard?”

“I…I can’t!” Even in a dream he can’t do this. Not with the Trickster. He’s been playing his own game, literally, since they first encountered him.

Gabriel shakes his head slightly, and moves up to nuzzle behind Sam’s ear.

Sam squeezes his eyes shut and tries to pretend he’s somewhere else, but then Gabriel licks along his jaw and Sam decides he doesn’t care anymore. “Gabriel, please!”

Gabriel cocks his head at him. “Please what?”

 _God, he’s going to make me_ say _it…_ “Fuck me, please fuck me!”

“Ask and it shall be given,” Gabriel smirks, and starts opening him up.

Sam doesn’t remember much after that, just slick and pressure and heat and _OhGod_ and Gabriel’s pushing into him, and it’s too much, and he’s coming without Gabriel even touching him.

When he wakes up this time he finds that he’s come all over the sheets, and he flushes with humiliation and confusion. What the fuck? Once could have been a fluke, but _twice?_ He _hates_ Gabriel, so why is he dreaming about him? No…Dreaming about him, capital “D.”

He shakes his head and moves to clean up.

***

Over the next few days, Sam’s sure they’re being watched.

But when he’d asked Dean, “Hey, you feel like there’s something here?” his brother had shaken his head. Cas didn’t seem to notice anything either, and he would.

But the skin on the back of his neck is constantly crawling. It gets so bad he takes out the EMF meter. Nothing. So if there’s anything here, it’s not a ghost.

The feeling is even in the motel rooms at night, despite the salt lines they put down. It takes forever for Sam to get to sleep.

A week after this started, there’s a knock on the door. He opens it, expecting Dean back from getting gas.

It’s not Dean.

It’s the Trickster.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Sam spits out.

Gabriel smirks. “You’re not happy to see me?”

Sam snorts. “You’re insane.” But he’s thinking, remembering what it was like to have Gabriel’s body pressing against him, his cock pushing into him…

“That’s not what you said last time,” Gabriel says smugly, and Sam feels as though he’s missed a step going downstairs.

“You _bastard_ , you’ve been in my head?!”

Gabriel chuckles softly. “That’s not all I was in.”

Sam turns away. “Just…just get the fuck out of here, Gabriel.”

When he turns back, Gabriel’s gone.

***

That should have been the end of it, but that night Sam dreams again.

This time, he’s fucking Gabriel, inhuman heat clenched around him, as Gabriel claws at his back and pants underneath him. Sam groans and bites into the juncture of Gabriel’s shoulder and neck, hard, and Gabriel gasps “ _Sam,_ ” and spasms around him, milking Sam’s own orgasm out of him.

When he wakes up, he groans. How can he get Gabriel to leave him alone? But, thinking about it, he realizes this dream was different. It was less vivid, with no underlying awareness that it was a dream, like there had been with the other two. Not to mention the fact that he doesn’t think Gabriel would ever let anyone fuck him…

As the implications of that sink in, he pulls his pillow over his face and groans. He doesn’t need Gabriel invading his dreams anymore; he’s manufacturing material on his own.

***

The dreams don’t come every night, and it gets to the point where Sam is alternately anticipating and dreading them. He’s come to terms with the fact that he wants to fuck Gabriel…the Trickster… _Gabriel,_ but he won’t. He knows better than to trust him.

But after three weeks he decides he can’t go on like this. So when Dean is changing the Impala’s brake pads, he stands in the middle of the motel room and says, “Gabriel?”

He’s pretty sure he won’t get an answer, but as soon as he says it Gabriel’s there, leaning lazily against the wall. “You called?”

“Have you been in my head again?” He doesn’t think so, but he has to make sure.

“Nah, Sammy. Why? Interesting dreams?” Gabriel asks knowingly.

“Shut up,” Sam mutters, knowing he’s answering Gabriel’s question.

“What’s the problem?” Gabriel asks, and Sam explodes.

“The problem? The _problem?!_ ” Sam demands. “You were in my head, and now I can’t–” he stops, appalled.

“You can’t what? You can’t stop thinking about me?”

When Sam doesn’t say anything, Gabriel continues. “There’s nothing wrong with it, you know.”

“Nothing wrong with it?! You’re completely amoral and untrustworthy!”

“Yes,” Gabriel acknowledges, “but I look out for my own interests. And right now I’m interested in you.”

“I can’t,” Sam says, but he’s taken a step closer.

“Why not?”

“You’re an archangel.” The images he had of angels before Cas showed up float to the top of his mind, and even though he knows better now, he can’t throw off the voice saying “Do not touch.”

“What? So that means I should sit on a cloud and play a harp for all eternity?” Gabriel snorts. “Besides, I know you want it.”

“I…”

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “Come on, Sammy, don’t make me go through a repeat of last time!”

Sam flushes, remembering the “last time.” “But you want me to accept Lucifer!”

Gabriel shakes his head, stepping into Sam’s personal space and stroking his cheek. “No. You _will_ accept Lucifer. Foregone conclusion. But in the meantime…”

“In the meantime,” Sam repeats, and Gabriel smiles.

“Attaboy,” he crows, and kisses him.


	2. Should Know Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds out.

Dean came back to the motel, clutching a Taco Bell bag, to find the Trickster sitting on Sam’s bed, exactly as if he was welcome there.

Dean dropped the bag and pulled out his knife, not that it would do any good. “What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s Sam?” His mind was racing, trying to figure out what had happened. The Trickster could have put Sam in a time-loop again, or a reality he’d created…

The Trickster smirked. “Relax, Deano. Sam’s fine.”

And at that moment Dean noticed that the shower was running, just as it cut off. A moment later Sam came out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel. He froze, staring from Dean to the Trickster, and then back to Dean. “Uh…”

Dean didn’t miss the way the Trickster’s eyes raked over Sam’s body, or the fact that Sam was flushed with more than the hot water. He crossed his arms and glared at his brother. “ _Well?!_ ”

“Dean, I can explain!” Sam protested, earnestness thick in his voice.

“Go on, then. Explain,” Dean growled. “What is _he,_ ” he jerked his thumb at the Trickster, who was leaning against the wall, hands behind his head, as if this was prime entertainment, “doing here?”

Sam’s eyes flicked to the Trickster in a mute appeal for aid and Dean’s blood boiled. “Don’t look at me,” he drawled.

Sam scrubbed a hand over his face. “Get out, Gabriel.”

“But–”

“Get. Out,” Sam repeated, steel creeping into his tone.

And the Trickster, much to Dean’s surprise, vanished without another word.

“The _fuck,_ Sam?” Dean demanded, waving a hand at where he’d been.

“Dean, can I at least get dressed before we have this conversation?”

“Fine!” he snapped, and went to pick up the bag from the floor. Good thing he’d only ordered soft tacos.

When Sam was dressed, he glared at him again. “What was the Trickster doing here, Sam?”

“He…came to see me,” Sam mumbled, staring at the floor.

“Why would he want to see you? More to the point, why would you want to see _him?_ In case you’ve forgotten, last time we met he trapped us in TV Land, and before that he forced you to watch me die over and over!”

Sam winced at that. “I haven’t forgotten, Dean! I just…”

“Just what?” Dean demanded, but Sam didn’t answer.

“Why was the Trickster here?” Dean repeated, fully ready to keep doing so until he got an answer.

“I…asked him here,” Sam muttered, and Dean gaped.

“What? For the love of God, Sam, _why?_ ” Then he remembered how the Trickster had looked at Sam, and it clicked. “Oh no. Oh, hell no, Sammy, you are _not_ fucking the Trickster!”

“It’s not any of your business, Dean!” Sam retorted.

“It is my damn business! He’s completely untrustworthy, wants us to become meat-puppets, and you’re screwing him? How long has this been going on?”

“Almost two months,” Sam whispered, averting his eyes again.

“Two months? _Two months?!_ You’ve been fucking the Trickster for _two months?!_ ”

“His name is Gabriel!” Sam yelled, now glaring at Dean in turn.

“He’s the Trickster! I don’t care what he was before, he’s the Trickster!”

“Like you can talk, Dean! I’ve seen the way you look at Cas!”

Dean felt the blood drain out of his face, and he stalked out of the motel, slamming the door behind him, ignoring Sam’s pleas for him to wait.

***

Dean roared down the road in the Impala, at speeds sure to get him ticketed, _Spoilin’ For a Fight_ blaring from the tape deck. Who said Sam could bring Cas into this? At least Cas was trustworthy! Not that Dean thought about him that way anyway…

And it didn’t matter that for months he’d been trying to ignore dreams of stripping Cas of that damn suit and tie, feeling him writhe underneath him…

It didn’t matter, because even if Dean wanted to do something like that with Cas (and he didn’t) and even if Cas was interested too (which didn’t matter, because Dean didn’t think about him that way) at least he knew Cas wouldn’t jerk him around for his own sick amusement.

 _How can Sam ignore everything that fucker’s done, everything he put us through?_ Dean fumed as the tape switched over to _Some Kind of Monster._ He’d think the psychological anguish Sam had gone through seeing him die day after day would be enough that he’d hate the Trickster as much as Dean did. But no, he’d been fucking him, for two whole months, and Dean hadn’t had a fucking clue.

In exasperation, he pulled over at a diner, even though he wasn’t really hungry. On impulse, he pulled out his phone. He wanted to talk to Cas. If anyone would know why Sam had suddenly gone insane, he would, and even if he didn’t have anything useful to say he could at least listen to Dean rant.

“Hello?”

“Cas. I need to talk.”

“What happened? Where are you?”

“Cindy’s, in Fort Wayne.”

Cas appeared next to the car. Dean got out, still fuming.

“Dean? What’s wrong?”

“The Trickster,” Dean growled.

A slight furrow appeared between Castiel’s brows. “Gabriel? What’s he done now?”

“He’s been sleeping with Sam. For _two months!_ ”

Cas’ eyes widened slightly. “Why?”

“Hell if I know!” Dean growled. “Come on inside.”

***

When they were seated, Dean told Cas what had happened, leaving out Sam’s last comment. “So I left, before I punched him.”

Cas looked vaguely troubled. “I don’t know what to make of this.”

“Neither do I. I mean, he’s the _Trickster!_ ”

“He wasn’t always,” Cas said softly.

“Yeah, I forgot, you knew him. What’s his deal?”

“Gabriel was the chief of the four favored angels,” Cas began. “He was God’s messenger. He helped Daniel interpret his visions, foretold the births of Christ, and of John the Baptist, and revealed the Qu’ran to Muhammed.”

“Wait, _Muhammed?_ ” Dean demanded, and Castiel nodded. “I thought he was an angel.”

“He is. Was. Is,” Castiel paused in confusion, then continued. “The archangels aren’t only revered in Christianity.”

“Huh,” Dean mused.

“He was the Spirit of Truth, and the Angel of Judgment...”

“Gabriel’s horn,” Dean muttered. “Probably why he goes after people who’ve done something wrong.”

Castiel nodded. “He was…splendid. His wings were edged with fire and when he flew there was a noise of thunder.”

“So what happened?” Dean demanded. “I mean, I know he left, but why’d he turn into the Trickster?”

Castiel shrugged.

“I don’t trust him! I don’t trust him and I don’t know why Sam does!”

“I don’t think he would actually _hurt_ Sam,” Castiel said slowly. “He tends to act in enlightened self-interest, and right now he’s interested in Sam.”

“And when he loses interest?” Dean demanded.

Castiel shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

“Great. Just great.” Dean tore savagely into his meatloaf, imagining it with the Trickster’s face.

They didn’t talk much after that, and when they’d finished, Dean sighed. “I guess I’d better go talk to Sam.”

***

When he got back to the motel, Sam was on his laptop. He ignored him.

“Sam…”

“I don’t want to talk to you, Dean,” Sam said, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

“Sam, I’m just worried about you!”

Sam exploded out of the chair and whirled to face him. “I can take care of myself, Dean!”

 _Oh, yeah, you were just_ fine _the four months I was in Hell,_ Dean thought, but didn’t say it. “He’s the Trickster! He can’t be trusted!”

“He’s changed, Dean! I think he might even be willing to help!”

Dean snorted. “All he wants is for the world to end! He wants you to say yes to Lucifer!”

“No! He thinks I’m _going_ to say yes to Lucifer. But screw destiny, or fate, or whatever the fuck this is supposed to be! It’s not gonna happen!”

“Sam, just…just be careful, OK?” Dean pleaded.

Sam nodded. “I don’t think he’s going to be around much anymore anyway,” he said, and looked so miserable at the thought that Dean felt a pang of guilt despite himself.

“Well, if he does…come back…just watch yourself, Sammy, OK? I don’t want to have to gank an archangel.”

Sam smiled briefly at that. “OK, I will.”


	3. Almost as Noble as to Create

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas talks to Gabriel about Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from a quote by Voltaire: “Men who are occupied in the restoration of health to other men, by the joint exertion of skill and humanity, are above all the great of the earth. They even partake of divinity, since to preserve and renew is almost as noble as to create.”

Castiel stood in the park and stared at the sky. “Gabriel.”

He appeared a moment later, smirking. “You called?”

“You are sleeping with Sam Winchester,” Castiel said, fixing him with a stern gaze.

“Yeah, so what?” Gabriel demanded.

“Why?”

“God, you so need to get laid,” Gabriel muttered, then asked, “Why do you _think?_ ”

“I mean why _him?_ ” There were billions of other people in the world, and the fact that Gabriel had picked Sam seemed somehow sinister.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“You can either explain yourself to me or to Dean,” Castiel considered a moment, “Actually, given his reaction, I think it’s more likely Dean will ‘want your head on a platter.’”

“Oh, it’s not my head he’ll want,” Gabriel replied cheerfully.

“Gabriel. Why?”

Gabriel sighed, and began walking away. Castiel followed him. “You gotta understand, Cas, after I left…I thought I knew what I was getting into, but being cut off from the Host…” He stopped, shuddering slightly, and Castiel grimaced in sympathy. He’d had Sam and Dean to help him cope, but it still had been a phenomenal loss, and the silence still filled his head sometimes and made him want to scream.

“I guess I went a little crazy. I started playing tricks on humans, harmless at first or even beneficial. But I saw all the things that they were doing, that they weren’t being called to account for…and, well, I am the angel of judgment.”

Castiel nodded, as Gabriel went on. “After a while, though, they got really sadistic, manipulative. Part of me was sickened by what I was doing, so I did it more, to make that part shut up. After awhile I forgot who I’d been. Until Dean trapped me in the holy fire, I hadn’t even thought the name ‘Gabriel’ in a thousand years.”

Well, that explained some things. The Gabriel he remembered had been shining, righteous, majestic, not petty and vindictive. He knew from personal experience what being cut off from the Host could do, and Gabriel had been alone for a very long time. “So why Sam?” he prompted.

Gabriel sighed. “I knew from when I first saw him that he was destined to be Lucifer’s vessel. At first it was just fun to mess with him, him and his brother. That’s part of the reason I started having sex with him. Now…” He stopped.

Castiel waited patiently for him to continue.

“Did you know he still prays?” he asked abruptly. “Even after everything he’s been through, even knowing that God is gone and most angels don’t give a rat’s ass about the world, he still prays. And not for himself, either. He prays for the world, and his brother, and even you, but not for himself.”

Castiel nodded. That sounded like Sam.

“I told you I’d forgotten who I was. Sam…he’s helping me remember. He doesn’t care that the fight is hopeless, that there’s no point, he’s fighting because it’s the right thing to do. I was like that, once.”

“You could be again. You could still help us.”

Gabriel thought a moment, then nodded. “I think I will.”

“Dean won’t trust you,” Castiel cautioned him.

Gabriel smirked. “Dean doesn’t trust anyone except Sam. And you,” he added as an afterthought.

Castiel ignored the flush of pleasure Gabriel’s words gave him. “He’ll never like you. But he may fight alongside you.”

“I’m fighting whether he likes me or not,” Gabriel said, and for the first time he was the brother Castiel remembered.


	4. Change in the Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel’s offer of help against Lucifer is not well received.

Sam was on his laptop at the table, trying to figure out if the local freak weather conditions were because of the Apocalypse or something else. Dean was on his bed, flipping aimlessly through the channels on the motel TV, having complained multiple times that “There’s nothing on.” Cas was sitting on the other bed, not doing anything much.

None of them expected Gabriel to show up. Sam hadn’t seen him in two weeks, not since his fight with Dean.

So when he did, popping into the room with no warning, Dean’s eyes narrowed immediately. “What are you doing here?”

Gabriel stared back at him. “I want to help. Against Lucifer.” His gaze never wavered and his voice held a note that said he knew Dean wouldn’t believe him and didn’t care.

Dean snorted. “Yeah, right!”

“I do!” Sam had been starting to be able to read him, a little, and he saw the flash of hurt in his eyes, quickly masked.

“There’s no reason for you to want to help us!” Dean retorted.

“I can’t do it just because it’s the right thing to do?” Gabriel demanded.

Dean pretended to consider. “Gee, let’s think about this a minute, _no!_ ”

“Dean,” Sam said, but his brother ignored him.

“You can’t do a complete 180 and expect us to trust it!”

Gabriel’s eyes hardened. “Fine, then,” and he disappeared.

Sam sighed, about to say something, but Cas beat him to it. “You should not have done that, Dean. The offer was a sincere one.”

“No way,” Dean scoffed. “It’s gotta be another trick.”

“It isn’t!” Sam protested. “He’s changed, Dean!”

“You keep _saying_ that, but how do you know?”

“How can he prove it to you if you don’t give him a chance?” Sam retorted, getting up and heading for the door.

Dean let him go.

***

Gabriel _had_ changed. Before he’d left, he’d still been flippant a lot of the time, but he’d been becoming increasingly more serious. He’d still used his powers, but mostly to help. But Dean would never believe it. Dean still saw things in black and white. If you weren’t good, you were evil. If you weren’t with him, you were against him. And he was too stubborn to change his opinion once it was formed without blunt force applied to the head.

Sam sighed. Maybe Cas could bring him around. He had more influence on Dean than even Sam did, and he had known Gabriel before he became the Trickster.

But it wasn’t Dean he was worried about at the moment. “Gabriel?”

There was a flutter of wings, and Gabriel appeared. Maybe it was because he was an archangel, but the Enochian sigils carved in their ribs didn’t seem to give him any trouble. “What?”

“Do you really want to help?”

Gabriel scowled. “It doesn’t matter if I want to or not, does it? Dean won’t let me.”

“He’ll come around,” Sam said. _I hope._

Gabriel snorted at that, but didn’t say anything.

“So do you?”

“Yes, alright! I want to help!” And there was something familiar about Gabriel’s expression, but he couldn’t place it.

“Why?” And now Sam had it. It was the same expression Dean got when Sam forced him to talk about something he didn’t want to.

“Do I need a reason?” Gabriel demanded sullenly.

“You have a reason,” Sam said quietly. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’d like to know.”

“It’s because of you!” Gabriel burst out, glaring at him.

“Me?” Sam repeated, utterly bewildered.

“Laugh if you want, but it’s true.” And again Gabriel wore an expression Sam was familiar with from his conversations with Dean, the one that said he’s said too much and expects to have to deal with the fallout.

“I’m not laughing.” If anything, he was touched. His view of angels might have undergone several radical changes in the past three years, but the thought that one of them cared about him that much was still unbelievably humbling.

“You must be delusional. Any other person in your situation would have put a gun in their mouth or crawled inside a bottle, but you’re still fighting. You still think you can _win!_ ” Gabriel shook his head incredulously.

“If I’m delusional, then why do you want to help?”

Gabriel smiled ruefully. “It must be contagious.”

Sam laughed outright at that. “So are you going to be around again now?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Dean will throw a fit.”

Sam shrugged. “Cas will manage to persuade him. And you know Dean; you can do things to get on his good side.”

Gabriel nodded. “Porn, food, his car…”

“Exactly. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel said, with a smile that said he had Plans. “And Sam…” he hesitated suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Sam’s brow furrowed. “What for?”

“For showing me who I am again. I’d forgotten, until…” he trailed off, flushing.

Sam grinned, feeling something swell in his chest. “You’re welcome.”


	5. Salt in the Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam asks Gabriel why he decided to help.

Gabriel’s in Rio, sitting on the beach, when he hears someone calling his name. Not anyone nearby. No, the voice is familiar, and coming from the darkness of a motel parking lot in Nebraska. He sighs.

After Sam had talked to him, he’d made himself scarce. He’d been willing to help, and his help had been spurned. So he’s been gone for three weeks, filling the gnawing ache in his gut with sweets.

But now Sam’s calling him, and he can’t ignore it. He sighs again and snaps his fingers. “What do _you_ want?”

Sam jumps at his sudden appearance, looking confused, but recovers quickly. “You shouldn’t listen to Dean. He didn’t mean it.”

Gabriel scowls. “Yeah he did.”

Sam sighs, but doesn’t deny it. “You gotta admit, he doesn’t exactly have a reason to trust you. I mean you did keep killing him.”

“Dean can go fuck himself.” He’s had enough. Dean had called him a coward, then when he actually offered to help he didn’t believe him.

Sam hesitates, then asks, “You really want to help because of me?”

Gabriel laughs bitterly. “Yes, you. You and your _duty_ and your _responsibility_ and your _justice!_ ” He spits the words out as if they taste foul.

Sam’s brow furrows and he shakes his head again, this time in confusion.

“You made me remember who I was!” Gabriel bursts out furiously. “I was the Trickster. I was _happy_ being the Trickster! Then you came along…” He stops, suddenly tired beyond belief. It _hurt,_ being Gabriel. Gabriel had lost everything.

“I’m sorry.” Sam steps close to him and kisses him softly.

Gabriel kisses him back. “I wish I’d never met you,” he whispers against Sam’s mouth.

Sam freezes, and then he’s pushing away and walking back to the hotel before Gabriel can call after him.


	6. Misery Loves Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is upset about what Gabriel said to him. Cas explains things.

Sam sits, morosely drinking his beer and staring into the distance.

“What is wrong?”

He looks over to see Castiel staring at him in concern. “Nothing’s wrong.”

But Cas has evidently been around humans enough now to know bullshit when he hears it. “You are upset. Why?”

Sam sighs. “Gabriel.”

“What did he do?”

Sam put his beer down. “He said he wished he’d never met me.”

“What?” Castiel sits down next to him at the table.

“I asked him why he decided to help. He said it was because of me, that I made him remember who he was, then he said he wished he’d never met me. He seemed fine when I talked to him before, but then…” He trailed off. He’d been stupid. He’d thought Gabriel cared about him, thought he might actually do the right thing for once.

Castiel nods thoughtfully. “He didn’t mean it. At least, not the way you are interpreting it.”

“Hm?”

“When an angel leaves Heaven, when he is cut off from the Host, knows he is no longer welcome in the only home he’s ever known, knows his brothers will at the very least be furious if they come across him…it is painful in ways you as a human cannot begin to understand.” There’s a raw edge to his voice that lets Sam know he’s not only talking about Gabriel.

“Gabriel remade himself entirely, when he left. It must have been easier than to dwell on what he’d lost. He was the Angel of Judgment, and he took that role as a Trickster, punishing the wicked, but he came to do it more for his own amusement than anything. I believe he succeeded in forgetting who he had been.”

“And then he met me, and I reminded him,” Sam winces. “No wonder he lashed out.”

Castiel nods. “Dean’s rejecting his help, when he wasn’t even certain if he wanted to give it, also didn’t help. You should speak with him.”

“I will. And thanks.”

Castiel smiles slightly. “You are welcome.”


	7. We Walk This Line Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam apologizes to Gabriel.

Sam goes out to the parking lot again, and calls, “Gabriel?”

There’s no answer.

He tries again. “Gabriel, I’m sorry!”

“Why are _you_ apologizing?”

He turns to see Gabriel standing a few feet away, beneath a streetlight, his arms crossed over his chest.

Sam takes a step toward him. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Gabriel laughs bitterly. “Don’t be sorry. If it wasn’t you, it would have been something else. You can run from what you are, but sooner or later it catches up with you.”

Sam, thinking of Stanford and Jess, only nods.

“You’re a lot like me, you know? Like I used to be,” Gabriel continues. “Innocent, stupid, convinced that the world is fair.”

“I’m not innocent!” Sam protests. Not after what he’s done, what he’s seen.

Gabriel gives him a look then that’s utterly alien, the look of a being older than Sam can imagine. “Kiddo, compared to me, you are lily-white!”

“Do you still want to help? We could use you.”

For a moment pain flickers across Gabriel’s expression, before it hardens and he says, “Yes.”

Sam realizes then just how much Gabriel cares about him. He’s not taking their side against Lucifer because it’s the right thing to do, or not mainly. He’s doing it because Sam wants him to help, and because Lucifer wants to use Sam as his vessel.

“Thank you.” And he steps closer and puts his arms around Gabriel, briefly surprised when Gabriel’s head only comes up to his chin.

Gabriel pulls away, glaring up at him. “You’re freakishly tall, you know that?”

Sam laughs. “It’s been mentioned a time or two, yeah.”

He takes Gabriel’s chin in his hand, leans down, and kisses him, trying to show how grateful he is, how much he cares about him.

They haven’t defeated Lucifer, not by a long shot. Carthage was a clusterfuck, and Sam has no clue what they’re going to do next. But they have Gabriel’s help, which is more than they had before.


End file.
